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Authentic Holland-The port of my wandering 1989 Adjusted January 2013 with French original text. La Hollande authentique- Le port de mon errance.


Enkhuizen2010 ©copyright2013owpp

Enkhuizen2010
©copyright2013owpp

Enkhuizen ©copyright2013owpp

Enkhuizen
©copyright2013owpp

This poem was the result of an enchanting and memorable trip on Holland’s thin roads running along its canals. It obviously had to be adjusted but the words, emotion and kernel were kept. The photos are fairly recent.
Enjoy it!

Authentic Holland
——————

Earth and paradise
In this country
Peace in its nature
Green, blue so pure

Narrow roads
Water on all sides
Line of earth
Precarious but salutary

Solitude and tranquility
Propitious pleasures
Picture perfect
Grandiose and magnificent

Landing
From time to time
In small quaint villages
Reminiscing a fairy tale

One final flight
Grazing the ground
Ethereal scenery
Coasting the imaginary

Euphoria and sadness
Contradictory feelings
Belonging to an evening
Of nature in triumph

On the highway, tired
Feeling purified
Of buried anxieties
Hitherto asleep

Furrowing this beautiful country
Its character dazzles us

And we regain…

The Holland of our youth
The port of our wandering.

________________

La Hollande authentique
————————-

Terre et paradis
Dans ce pays
Paix en sa nature
Vert, bleu si pur

Routes étroites
L’eau de toute part
Ligne de terre
Précaire mais salutaire

Solitude et tranquillité
Plaisirs propices
Tableau parfait
Grandiose et magnifique

Atterrissant
De temps en temps
Dans de petits villages coquets
Rappelant un conte de fée

Un dernier envol
Frôlant le sol
Paysage irréel
Côtoyant l’imaginaire

Euphorie et tristesse
Sensations contradictoires
N’appartenant qu’un soir
A une nature en allégresse

Sur l’autoroute, fatigué
Se sentant purifié
Des angoisses enfouies
Jusqu’ici endormies

Sillonnant ce beau pays
Son caractère nous ébloui

Et nous regagnons…

La Hollande de notre enfance
Le port de notre errance.

The Clean slate- Prose- May 1993- Readjusted on January 2013


Giverny 2011 ©copyright2013owpp

Giverny 2011
©copyright2013owpp

Clean slate
————

He turns
In despair
Facing the sky
Not knowing why

Asking for,
Intelligence
To read
The signals

Take care
Rest his soul
Abandon
The fear

Control
The changes
The unknown
Till where

How far
It will go
Understand
The wandering

Misunderstand
What appears
To be evil
Lose harshness

To the abyss
Love with
His heart
Not blabber

Tell them, listen
Validate
His own.
Erasing

Invalidity
Wanting
The energy
Long forgotten

Sucked
In a porthole.
Concentrate
On the finer

Larger, fitter
Worthier.
Feeling
Those moments

Those things
That come back
As delicate
As a blow

Of the wind
On his face.
The shivers
Along his spine

The burning
A clean slate.
Consigned
To oblivion

Dismissed
From his mind
A loss of
Consciousness

Obliterated
From his percipience.
Time, the father
Of wisdom

He lets it
Run its course.
Normalcy
His lease.

Prayer in his heart
Straight to the
First pages
Of his book

Of patience
Toward his life.
Need him
Need them

Family, friends
Children encompassing
Their love, his love.
Circumvent

The laws, accepting…

Nature

My untamed thoughts 2008 ( Translation of poem below ” Mes pensées insoumises ” )


deep in the night... ©copyright2013owpp

deep in the night…
©copyright2013owpp

My untamed thoughts
———————

Deep in the night
On your page I write
My most burrowed thoughts
In a sometimes sluggish mind

A ponderous silence
Or a restful one
Conveying
Through my quill pen
Scratching the haze
Of my life in dunes
Of valleys and vertices
Of stormy sands

It is deep in the night
That on your page I smile
Of my wandering mind
By my untamed thoughts.

Mes pensées insoumises 2008 ( French poetry translated above as “my untamed thoughts” )


deep in the night... ©copyright2013owpp

deep in the night…
©copyright2013owpp

Mes pensées insoumises
————————

Au fin fond de la nuit
C’est sur ta page que j’écris
Mes pensées les plus enfouies
Dans un esprit parfois endormi

Un silence pesant,
Ou, reposant
Se traduisant
A travers ma plûme
Qui gratte la brûme
De ma vie en dûnes
De vallées et de sommets
De sables mouvementés

C’est au fin fond de la nuit
Que sur ta page je souris
De mon esprit étourdi
Par mes pensées insoumises.